I'll Be Your Pillow
by xoxButterflysTornadoxox
Summary: Spoilers for Motel California: after what happened that night, Scott wants to laugh it off and forget it ever happened but he can't. None of his friends can. He doesn't want to let his mother out of his sight and he wouldn't argue to sleeping for the next eight months with Isaac curled into his side. Chapter two: Stiles (allison) platonic/romance whatever you want
1. Scott (Isaac)

**A/N: MAJOR SPOILERS! DO NOT READ WITHOUT WATCHING MOTEL CALIFORNIA**

Scott really wishes he could laugh off last night, push it under a rug and burry it in the deepest grave but he can't. He tried teasing Isaac on the bus going on—_I guess there really are monsters under the bed, huh? Get it, 'cuz you're a were- yeah, you get it_—which resulted in them not speaking the rest of the way. He wanted to joke it off with Stiles, because if anyone needs things clearing up with it is them two, but his best friend was fast asleep with Allison's head on his shoulder. Lydia was talking to Boyd about something in the back of the bus and Danny was taking up Ethan's time so Scott couldn't even talk to him if he wanted to.

The first thing he does when he gets home is speed his bike to the hospital and give his mom the tightest hug he's ever given her. She doesn't question it—though she knows something is wrong—and promises they'll have a big dinner tonight when she gets home because his last two nights probably didn't consist of any hearty meals. She holds his face in her hands, says she won't be home late, which Scott makes her swear on—_come straight home, don't stop for anything and don't talk to anyone—_and she asks if desert is going to have to be necessary. Scott agrees, but only for Isaac's sake. It was the hardest thing he had to do leaving his mom there.

Isaac is in the guest bedroom, which is official now, hugging one of the new pillows Melissa bought him. Scott can't help but sigh at the sight, "Alright. Move over,"

"Wh—no. Hey, give that back." Isaac doesn't care if he sounds pathetic, he needs something to hold onto, to ground him to reality and comfort him. Scott nudges him over and sits on the space next to him on the bed.

"I am much better than a pillow." Scott promises as he puts the pillow behind them. His arms are open and he feels broken inside and Isaac looks like he needs this just as much as he does. A second later, he's got Isaac pressed to him, shoulder to knee and they fall onto the mattress with exhaustion.

If Scott had help Melissa tight earlier, Isaac was trying to match it. Scott's wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulders and rubs his arms for unnecessary warmth.

"You are way better than a pillow," Isaac mumbles into Scott's shoulder. The last twenty four hours have not been funny, at all, but Scott feels the familiar warmth bubbling in his stomach and it rises to his chest. He doesn't realize he's laughing until Isaac's breath is mimicking it against his neck. It's a good feeling, laughing and having someone to hold onto to.

When Melissa gets home, she goes straight up to Scott's room announcing that she's going to start dinner. His bed is empty and Scott doesn't respond. She really shouldn't be surprised that she finds both Scott and Isaac curled up on the guest bed, around each other in every way possible, with their legs intertwined and Scott's nose in the crock of Isaac's shoulder.

She's relieved that they're both sleeping and have each other to comfort the other. Knowing they're exhausted, she closes the door and lets them sleep before heading down to make a small dinner for herself. Tomorrow, she'll get answers; but for now, her boys need rest.

**I HAD TO! I JUST HAD TO! THIS EPI, O.M.G. Sorry…I haven't recovered yet. Maybe I'll do a fallow up; yeah, I will, tomorrow with other characters—and I really should update my story I haven't written for in three weeks—but for now I need a nights rest to recharge from tonight's emotional whirlwind. **


	2. Stiles (Allison)

Despite the fact that his father is still clueless on the existence of werewolves, there isn't a lot that Stiles keeps from him. He figures that since he lies a lot about things involving the pack and supernatural, he shouldn't lie about anything else, just to be fair. But last night, he's keeping that a secret from the sheriff; at least for now. Once Stiles can breathe normally again, then maybe he'll tell his father…minus the werewolf stuff.

After changing out of clothes that smell like gasoline and smoke and tears, Stiles writes down as much of last night as he could in the spiral he hides under his mattress. Some teenage boys hide porn magazines, he hides supernatural sacrifice information. His writing is barely readable from his hand shaking so bad, but he needs to get it down. _Wolfsbane in Coach's whistle. Scott, Isaac, Boyd, Ethan poisoned. Lydia weird hearing ability. DRUID in fire? Alpha pack not involved. _

There's more, a lot more that he writes but his brain starts getting fuzzy and he can't look at the scribbling anymore. Stiles hides the spiral and grabs his car keys from his desk before heading downstairs.

Of course the Sheriff walks in right when he's about to leave. His dad asks where he's going; another lie that Stiles will have to make. He considers the truth for a second: _Making rounds to check on all my traumatized friends…possibly going out to hunt down Derek even if I found his lifeless body. _Scott's sounds better.

Sheriff, knowing there's nothing he could do to separate the two, ignores the fact that they just spent the whole weekend together. He pats Stiles on the shoulder as he grabs his jacket and Sheriff hangs up his own. He asks if Isaac is still staying with the McCalls and how it's going while Stiles shrugs into his jacket. Everything gets a one word answer. He knows he's not talking much, a dead giveaway that something is wrong, but his dad doesn't call him out on it fast enough.

Stiles says he's going to sleep at the McCalls, which is probably true, and his father figured that much. He asks his son to say hello to everyone. By everyone, he means Melissa, Stiles thinks. He's not sure how he feels about it; he knows he pauses in getting the jacket zipped up but he masks the shock with a smile and promises he will.

His father lets him go without anything else said. Once Stiles gets outside, he lets out a breathe of…relief? No, it feels too guilty to be relief. He shakes it off and runs to his car; he'll check on Boyd first, because his words about his only friend being dead still echoes in Stiles' ears at night sometimes.

After staying there for half an hour—Boyd isn't much of a talker and Stiles isn't in the mood for fake being himself anyways to cheer people up—he leaves and hopes over to Lydia's. Her mom opens the front door, much to his surprise; she's rarely around. When she says his last name, Stiles shivers; it's so much like Lydia, but a lot colder. He's used to the girl warming up to him lately. Her mom says Lydia doesn't want visitors, and he doesn't want to be rude so he agrees.

That doesn't stop him from trying to climb up to her window once the door's closed though. He falls, cuts his jeans open at the knee and it bleeds a little. The night air hitting the exposed skin makes it sting, burn. Stiles kind of likes it.

He abandons the idea of getting Lydia's attention; her light's off anyway and she'd kill him if he dripped blood on her carpet. When he starts up the Jeep, he can hear Prada barking at him from the window. He really wished Lydia got rid of her.

Stiles barely waits for Chris Argent to invite him into the condo before barging inside. The hunter tells him first door on the left, which Stiles already knew—he can't remember how he knew he just does—and he finds Allison sitting on her floor. He wished she was sleeping instead of wide awake; the mini-nap she took on the bus, on his shoulder, wasn't enough and he knows that will be what she lasts on for a while. Instead of saying anything, he just sits down beside her.

There was a point in the night where Lydia had tackled him and Scott down to the ground, and Stiles was too afraid to lift his head up and too worried about Scott to move from against him, that he couldn't see where Allison landed. Stiles heart had raced so fast he thought it was going to run out of his chest and into the fire. It wasn't until Lydia pushed at his shoulder that Stiles saw Allison rolling closer to the group, no more than a scratch on her hair line from shielding her face. They all huddled together then, but he didn't feel close enough.

Now that she's right beside him again, he feels like he can breathe.

Allison breaks the silence first; her eyes had fallen from the wall in front of her to Stiles' knee. With concern, her fingers fly to cup around the wound and she brushes it lightly with her thumb, "What happened?"

Stiles can't help but chuckle; their friends have had way worse. Black tare coming out of open gashes before and no one panics too much, but when the human gets a little boo-boo everyone freaks out. "Fell off Lydia's roof. It's nothing," he shrugs, sitting so his back is against her bed.

Allison rolls her eyes, "Ever so graceful. Want it cleaned up?"

"No, it's fine, just a scratch." He doesn't want to tell her that if they cover it, he won't feel the comfort from it being exposed anymore. She might think he's crazy then. But then again, she didn't clean up her cut on her forehead too much; just wiped up the blood on the bus and let it air out. Stiles wonders if she was feeling the same way he does now about his cut, but he doubts it.

"What did Lydia say when she saw you sprawled out on her lawn?" Allison teases.  
"I fled. Her mom said she didn't wont guests and Prada was staring at me, so…" Allison's laugh sends warmth through him; thank god, Stiles has felt like he was freezing on the inside all night. "…Don't laugh at me!" he can't help but chuckle too.

"I'm sorry," she giggles, resting her weight against his shoulder as she doubles over, "That dog just hates you so much."

"That dog is evil, okay? Maybe she's the damn Druid and we can fry her up on my Barbeque."

He must admit, Stiles Stilinski was not who he expected to show up to comfort his daughter tonight, but from his spot in the study, looking over clippings from the motel, Chris could hear her wonderful, bell light laugh and it's loud and real and full of life. He's never been so glad to have Stiles around before; with a smile, Chris puts away the motel information and calls it a night; he'll let his family feel normal for the night.

In the morning, when he finds that Stiles slept on Allison's floor the whole night, Chris isn't even mad. Because Allison actually slept soundly; and for the first time in he doesn't know how long, Chris swears there is a smile on her face in her sleep.


End file.
